entranceway | [video] once there was a way to get back homeward

[It wasn't enough, she thinks, to lose so much back home that she had to return here to another loss she was only just rebuilding. It wasn't enough to take away, it wasn't enough to really hurt, no, to quietly return to a familiar room, empty with its vast walls and dark corners. Slowly she filled it again, odds and ends of furniture and the trappings of a home to which she can never return.

She has a reputation to uphold even in spite of the circumstances, better to nurse the greatest wound out of the public eye, a garish scar across her stomach. Evelyn could swear the blade reached her heart.

The exhaustion nestles deep into her bones, a palpable chill that reminds her what she is.

What she isn't.]

I've been informed I was away for a little while, [she addresses the network, unable to muster more than a tired smile.] Perhaps someone might catch me up. I'll be-

[For a moment Evelyn appears distracted, hand gravitating toward her waist.]

I'll be in the library. I've also got several, erm, dogs that need homes. Please let me know if you're interested.

Private to Philip, 11:31 AM
I’m back. May I come and see you? It's important.
-E

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Joy is no longer something that Evelyn believes she is capable of in her current state, with limited options and even fewer prospects. This place values memories, not the people who make them, and now memories are all she has left. There is no sense in withholding the truth when asked, no sense in pretending when someone can see through the veil.

Evelyn sets the correspondence to Private and is silent for a long moment.]

I died.

[It’s not at all a surprise when the security level of the feed changes, though it does serve to deepen the sense of dread. Still, Cami holds her tongue, allowing Evelyn whatever time she needs to find the words, or the will to speak them aloud. So often admitting what happened only served to cement the reality of it, and Cami already doubts this is something Eveyln wants to be true.

Yet what could be truer than death? And not just within Wonderland; no, Cami’s already sure that this passing is far more permanent, having taken place in Eveyln’s home dimension.]

I’m so sorry. [There’s nowhere else to begin beyond that; while being in Wonderland would extend Eveyln’s life, it’s far from a paradise.]

Yes.

[I'm sorry.

Even having heard the sentiment - and appreciating it for what it represents, an apology for helplessness more than anything - multiple times in the last few hours, it does little to warm her. She knows her loss. She knows she may never see her family again. She knows that she has never felt more alone.]

As am I. I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't share this information freely.

Oh, of course. I won’t tell anyone. [Honestly, the thought of doing so had never even crossed Cami’s mind, stopped not by professional boundaries but moral and humane ones. There nothing Evelyn can do to change what has happened; she can only try to learn how to live with it, an impossible task Cami refuses to make more difficult by taking away the few scraps of control the woman still has. Who knows should remain Evelyn’s choice, and it would, at least so far as Cami is concerned.]

There are a few token things I could say, but—I don’t know if you want to hear them. [Well-intentioned words, reminders that Wonderland does offer some form of life even if it isn’t the one she desires, the lasting possibility that those precious people from her world could still be brought here with her. Small bits of hope she might clutch in her hand as if they were water, slipping through her fingers before she could bring the drops to parched lips.]

If you’re up for going to the bar, I can make sure you don’t have an empty glass. [Or if she wants to talk, to simply get all of it out—well, Cami can certainly listen, and from anywhere still.]

[Token things may suffice for the time being, as hollow as they feel, she can only hope that they act as small bandages in the meanwhile. Evelyn can't quite bring herself to accept trite comments in her current - they wouldn't fill the empty void inside of her.

It's like being full of echoes.

It's like she's an echo.]

I...I'd like that. To meet at the bar. [Evelyn rubs at her temple.] ...you're a therapist, are you not?

[She smiles faintly, nodding as Evelyn accepts the offer.] I am. I’ve just figured out that sometimes people are more comfortable sharing their woes if they can pretend they’re just talking to a bartender rather than a shrink.

[Okay, so that’s not really how Cami started out working at the bar—but it also isn’t false. Probably half the people that open up to her only do so when she doesn’t apply the labels of “therapist” and “patient.”]

[Truthfully, Evelyn would prefer more professionalism rather than advice from the appearance of a friend. It being her second day back, starting to talk again, she considers the wisdom in getting to know Cami a little better before committing to anything more...serious, psychiatry-wise.]

I'll just- ...I'll take you up on a drink today, if that's all right.

[She can find out whether Cami has a regular practise later.]

...I'll see you soon?

Of course. [She's more than happy to play it Evelyn's way, to give the woman time to work up the nerve or find the reassurances she needs. In all honesty it's good for Cami too; it gives her time to try and figure out how to approach this, what advice she can offer, how she can apply the same sort of therapy one would offer a patient who'd been through trauma to someone who literally has lost all measure of hope.]

See you soon. [She bows her head as she mirrors the send off, then cuts the feed to head to the bar.]

[video] once there was a way to get back homeward

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